Walking Dead 1. Chapter 1

A/N: Alright, so this was just something I wanted to try. Basically, it's the story of Daryl and Carol a few years after the events of the show. This is basically a trial chapter, to see if anyone is even remotely interested in something like this. Again, an introductory chapter. If you like it, or would be interested to see more of this, please review. If I don't get any reviews, I'll assume nobody's interested, and take it down. : )

* * *

Four years. It had been four years to the day that their group had fallen apart. Four years since they'd lost Lori and T-Dog, since their safe haven had been over run. A little less than three and a half since the insane Governor had waged open war on them, nearly over-running their little group.

Carol sighed as she glanced through the barred window. Between the people who'd come from Woodbury after the Governor started executing his own people, Tyrese and his small group, and the occasional straggler, their 'little' group had grown to include forty-nine people, including seven children.

Among them, the little girl toddling along after the tall, dark-haired man, as the two crossed the large yard.

A smile crossed her lips, as she heard the door to their cell block creak open. One of the nice changes with the larger group had been the entire clearing of the prison, leaving each block with two or three families, depending on size.

"Mama!"

"Hey there, sweetheart!" Carol gushed, moving away from the window, to scoop up the little girl. "You having fun?"

"Uh huh! Daddy took me down to the water!"

Carol turned her glare towards the man leaning against the open door. "Did he now?"

"Uh huh. Said he's gonna teach me how to catch fishies!"

Carol sighed again, setting the little girl down. "Alright, baby. Go get cleaned up; mama will start lunch, alright?"

"Alright!"

She waited until the small, bouncing toddler had vanished around a corner, before moving towards her partner.

"Do I have to say anything?" She asked quietly.

"Can't hold her hand her whole life, woman. 'Ventually, girl's gonna need ta know how ta take care a herself," Daryl Dixon said, clearly exasperated.

"She's four, Daryl!"

"Jesus, woman, we gotta go through this every time I take her outside? C'mon, now… Ya got two hungry mouths ta feed, an' I got two rabbits," He said with his trademark grin.

"Really? Two? Where're mouths three and four?"

He hesitated a moment, as he shifted nervously from foot to foot. "They're 'round."

" 'Round' where, Daryl?"

Daryl sighed. "Shauna's watching Glen an' Maggie's brats; Mikey's with Carl."

Carol stiffened. "With Carl? Or with Rick?"

"Jesus, Carol, I don't need this shit right now, a'ight? I'm tired, I'm hungry, an' I really don't want the third degree."

"You don't want the third degree? Oh, that's beautiful, Daryl. Why don't you tell Judy that her big brother is hanging out with her real brother, and her real father? You know, the one who didn't want her?" Carol snapped, shoving past him.

* * *

It'd been three years. Three wonderful years, that were still heart-breaking at the same time. That particular conversation was one that Carol would never be able to forget.

She'd come in from laundry, to find Daryl holding Judith, Rick standing in the door, the two men arguing.

"What's going on?" Carol asked quietly.

Daryl turned towards her, blue eyes flashing. "Carol, take Judy."

"What –"

"Take Judy!" He snapped. "I've gotta beat the good Deputy's ass!"

"Daryl, please, don't make this harder on me, you don't understand what I'm going throu –"

"What you're going through?!" Daryl barked, moving closer to Rick, baby Judith still in his arms despite his words. "You kiddin' me?! You abandonin' your kid, an' ya wanna talk 'bout what you're goin' through?"

Carol's eyes nearly bunged out of her head. "What? Daryl, what's going on?" She demanded, setting the laundry down, and getting in between the two men.

"Go on then, big guy! Tell her whatchya told me!"

When Rick stared at the floor silently, Carol moved closer. "Rick?"

"I… I can't do it anymore, Carol. I tried, but… Every time I look at her… I… I see Shane… And Lori… And the walker that… that ate her… I just can't do it anymore," The once-cop said with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Rick!" Daryl yelled, as the deputy started walking away. "Ya do this? She's mine. Ya try an' change ya mind? I'll kill ya, understand?"

* * *

By that time, Carol and Daryl had already been living together, since his miraculous escape from Woodbury. While sex had never been anything more than the occasional fumbling in the dark, more like two awkward teenagers for the first time, they'd been a couple since that first night of his return.

A year after they'd taken Judy in, while Daryl, Tyrese and Glen had been on a run into a town twenty or so miles away, they'd come home with ten year old Shauna, a little African-American girl who'd watched her father and grandmother get eaten by walkers. Apparently her grandmother had looked like Carol, and the little girl had latched on to her.

"Um… Daryl? Can I talk to you?"

Her hunter glared as he looked up from the squirrel he was gutting. "Yeah?"

"It's… it's about Shauna. She… She fell asleep on our bed with Judy."

"And…?"

"I… I don't think she wants to leave," Carol said quietly, feeling nervous fluttering in her chest. In all honesty, she'd grown attached to the little girl in the few hours she'd spent with her.

Daryl chuckled, finally setting the knife down. "So what? Ya tellin' me I got three mouths ta feed now?"

"I wouldn't decide something like without talking to you first, Daryl."

Daryl sighed, picking up the knife again. "What the hell? Ya want a damn litter? Jus' don't go stealin' any, Angelina," He grumbled.

* * *

Micah was the most recent addition to their quasi-family. The thirteen year old had just shown up outside the fence one day, about eight months after Shauna. Daryl had rescued him from the Walkers around the fence, and from then on, the teenager had become Daryl's shadow.

Carol sighed, halfway down the hall, before turning around, and making her way back to the community room of Cell Block A. Daryl was sitting at one of the tables, head in his hands.

"Daryl?" Carol said softly, sitting down next to him. "I –"

"Carol, I'm sorry," Daryl interrupted. "I don't like Mikey hangin' out over there either, but Carl's the only boy his age… But I'll talk to him if ya want… Tell him I don't want him hangin' over there."

"No, it's…" Carol took a deep breath, as she grasped his hands in hers. "I just… I overreacted, and I'm sorry, Daryl. Let's just… let's pretend none of this happened, alright? We're good at that," She said with a small smile.

He chuckled as he kissed the top of her hands. "Yeah. We are."

"Daddy, c'mon! You promised you'd teach me how to gut the bunnies!"

Both of the adults laughed at the pleading look on Judith's face.

"Yeah, that's right, Ass Kicker. I did, didn't I?"

* * *

"Alright, everybody, time for bed!" Carol called out from inside the cell block itself. "Let's get a move on!"

"Aw, c'mon, ma!"

"Do we have to?"

"Hey! You heard your mom. Move it," She heard Daryl say sternly. "Everybody up."

"Hey, Daryl! We got problems!"

Carol bolted out of the cell at Tyrese's voice. "What's going on?" She asked, gathering Judith up in her arms, as Shauna wrapped herself around her mother's waist.

"Big group outside. Gotta be at least thirty of 'em. Beth's rounding up the kids, bringin' 'em over here," Tyrese said breathlessly, before disappearing down the hall.

"Shit. Mikey, c'mon," Daryl snapped, grabbing his crossbow, and tossing his adopted son his compound bow. "Carol –"

"Lock everybody in the cell block, I know," She said quickly. "We'll be okay. Go."

"Mama?" Judith cried. "Where's daddy goin'?"

Carol took a deep breath, before handing the now-squirming toddler to Shauna. "Shauna, take Judy to your room. Get your shoes on, get her settled down. I'll be in when Beth gets here with the others."

"Should I get the guns, mama?" The thirteen year old asked, propping Judy up on her hip.

"No. Wait till I get in there."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Wow, I was surprised at the positive response to the first chapter. Honestly didn't think anyone would be even remotely interested in something like this; glad to find out I was wrong lol. So, as promised, as long as I keep getting a few reviews, I'll keep on posting. : )

* * *

"Carol?"

Carol sighed in relief as Beth appeared in the door, Glen and Maggie's twins on her hips, along with four of the other children, all under thirteen, all clinging to her legs.

"Alright, let's get them inside. C'mon, kids. Everybody divide up, just like we practiced. Two of you older kids in with Beth, two of you in with me and my girls. C'mon, everybody move. Into the cells. There's extra blankets and pillows already in the cells, if you have to go to the bathroom, do it now, because you're not leaving the cells again till we get the all clear."

* * *

"You ready, kid?" Daryl asked, sparing Mikey a sideways glance as they moved quickly through the halls.

"Yeah. I'm ready," Mikey said firmly, a hard glint in his eye.

" 'S different, ya know. Killin' people. Ain't like killin' Walkers."

"I know, dad. I won't let ya down, I promise."

Daryl gave him a tight smile as they entered the courtyard, seeing the other men and women already gathering at the fence. "I know ya won't, kid. C'mon. We're gonna miss the party if we don't haul ass."

"Yeah, wouldn't want that," Mikey said with a cheeky smirk as they started jogging. "Maybe if you get some war wounds, Ma'll kick the girls outta the bed."

"You hush your mouth, boy," Daryl snapped, his face turning red. "What your ma an' me do ain't none a your concern. Rick! What do we got?"

Rick turned, and gave his right hand man a tight smile. "Big group. Glen an' Maggie caught sight of 'em on their run. They were on the road, headin' south, but if they detour off the main road…"

"Gonna drop 'em right on our doorstep," Daryl said grimly, glancing around at the assembled group. "Carol an' Beth got the kids in our block. So your girl's safe," He added with a grin at Carl, who blushed before turning back towards the fence. " 'Bout how far were they, Short Round?"

Glen rolled his eyes at the nickname, as he answered, "Maybe… half hour away? By the time we walked back here… Maybe ten minutes? If they aren't here in twenty, we're probably in the clear."

"We're still gonna wanna up the guard for the next few days. No tellin' where they're gonna camp," Mikey said, notching an arrow.

Daryl felt a surge of pride go through him, as the group mumbled their assent. Mikey was a smart kid; he'd come a long way in the two years he'd been with the group. When he'd first shown up, Daryl had instantly felt a kinship with the boy. While Mikey hadn't said anything, Daryl had seen the cigarette burns on the boys chest and back. Wherever the kid had come from, whatever family he'd had, he'd been in hell long before the Walkers had overrun everything.

"A'ight, let's split up," Rick announced, pulling Daryl out of his thoughts. "Split up into groups of three, spread out, fifty to a hundred feet in between. Daryl, you an' your boy wanna take the gate? I'll send Carl with ya?"

Daryl nodded, before turning to the group. " 'Member, stay outta sight as much as possible. No reason ta announce we're here. Lay in the grass, keep your heads low much as ya can... Those a ya who can should get up in the towers. Carl, Mikey… Let's go."

As the group started to disperse, Daryl turned to the two boys. "A'ight you two… I ain't even gonna try an' tell ya not to spend your time gabbin'. But keep your eyes focused. If I hear ya from the other gate tower, I swear ya gonna feel my size eleven up your ass, ya hear me?" As Mikey grinned, and headed for the stairs, Daryl grabbed Carl's arm. "Hey, I talk ta ya for a minute?" He nodded at Mikey, motioning for him to keep going.

"Uh… yeah, Daryl, what's up?" The eighteen year old asked.

"S'bout Mikey. Ya know…" He took a deep breath, unsure of how to proceed. "Ya know me an' your dad… The shit with Judy… There's uh… There's some tension there. Makes shit… complicated… when Mikey hangs out over at your dad and Andrea's block. Now… I ain't gonna tell ya not to hang out with him or some stupid shit like that. Jus'… Could ya not do it at your place?"

Carl sighed. "Yeah, uh… I know. I'll… We'll start taking it outside. I um… I know… Guess I just want you to know… I didn't agree with what my dad did. And I understand… you not tellin' Judy 'bout… 'bout my dad, and me, and my mom. I get it."

Daryl nodded, as Carl headed after Mikey, disappearing into the tower. After a few moments, he started into the opposite tower.

* * *

"Shauna?" Carol whispered, trying not to wake the three sleeping children.

"Yeah, mama?" Shauna asked quietly, shifting the sleeping Judith's head to her other arm.

"I'm gonna go check and see what's going on out there. You stay here with the kids. If Beth needs them, the bottles are –"

"In the cabinet under the stairs, third shelf down; formula's on the fourth. I know, mama," The girl said with a smile. "You're only gonna be gone a few minutes; I doubt the world will end… _again_."

Carol smiled back. "Alright. Be –"

"Careful. Yes, mama, I won't go running with any scissors until you get back."

"Cheeky girl. I'll be back."

Carol couldn't remove the smile from her face as she unlocked the cell doors, pocketing the extra set of keys after locking it behind her. Shauna knew where the original was, so there was no worry there.

As she made her way through the common room they shared with Hershel and Beth most days, she couldn't help but think how lucky she was, that she got the second chance she had. And the third, and fourth. While Judy, Shauna, and Micah would never replace Sophia, she had gradually come to realize in her time baby-sitting Judy (long before Rick had given the girl to her and Daryl) that they didn't have to replace her late daughter. That she could love them equally, without betraying Sophia's memory.

In fact, she seen a lot of Sophia in Shauna. Oh, she wasn't stupid enough to think that Shauna was Sophia, or what Sophia would have been, or any of that nonsense. But it was an unavoidable fact that Shauna had certain traits that she shared with Sophia. Their gentleness, their way with children…

But there were also some serious differences. While Shauna was easy-going, and usually mild-mannered, when her siblings were threatened, she could be as violent as her adopted father… Usually with similar results. Once, when one of the new, older teenagers had screamed at Judy for touching her bag, Shauna had flew off the handle. Lit into the older, bigger girl, fists flying, until the girl's brother had gotten involved, which had lead to Micah stepping in

Carol still winced to think of the end result. By the time the adults separated the children, Micah and Shauna had busted a nose, two ribs, three black eyes, and the other boy had walked funny for days from Shauna's foot to his privates.

Although, she supposed the other two teenagers had been lucky, all things considered. Both of her two older children carried buck knives similar to their foster father's, the same man who had taught them how to use said knives.

She had to admit… Daryl was a better father than she'd ever dreamed he would be. Even knowing how good he was with Judy as a baby, it'd still shocked her how quickly he'd taken to his new, and very sudden role of father to two teenagers. He'd taught them how to fight –fists, guns, knives –taught them how hunt, how to track… She'd never forget the proud look on Daryl's face when he and Micah had brought back an eight point buck, that Micah had felled himself

Although, she had to admit, it was funny what her partner thought about gender roles. While he had no problem teaching Shauna almost all the same things he taught Mikey, he'd drawn the line at cleaning and dressing a kill. That, he'd told their son, was a man's job. When Shauna had bucked at being left out of the cleaning sessions, Daryl had explained her role: knowing how to cook whatever her father and brother brought home, be it deer, rabbits, squirrels, or even rats. The patience he'd shown with both children, teaching them what he saw as their roles in the new world, had astounded her. The man usually quick to temper had developed the patience of Job when it came to his children.

"Carol? What're you doing out here?"

Carol started, pulled from her thoughts by Maggie's hand on her shoulder.

"Shit! Holy… Wow," Carol said, sucking in a deep breath.

"Sorry," Maggie said with a chuckle. "Was just coming to check on my kids."

"Oh. Yeah, they're fine. Sleeping with Beth in our block. Although, your sister's going to be very sore in the morning."

Maggie groaned. "I know! I swear, I can't figure out how two, two year olds can take up an entire bed! You know they actually shoved their father out of bed last week?"

Carol laughed. "Yeah, they all do that. Sophia was horrible… Judy was worse. For a while, Daryl wouldn't even bother sleeping in our bed. He'd just bed down on the floor; said he was gonna end up their anyways, might as well start there. So what's going on out there?"

Maggie sighed as she fell in step with Carol, the two of them heading back out the main door. "Nothing so far… Most likely, they didn't detour, kept on following the highway. Probably miles away by now. But Rick and Daryl are gonna keep a heavy guard tonight."

"And of course, they'll both lead that guard," Carol said with a sigh. "Mikey with his father?"

"He's with Carl, in the gate guard tower. Daryl's in the other one. He'll be fine."

Carol scoffed. "Yeah. As long as the three of them don't burn down the towers."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Alright, so thanks for the awesome reviews. I wrote all of this last night in an insomnia induced psychosis lol, so I really didn't think anyone would read it. As I spent my morning doing my best zombie impression from lack of sleep, I actually came up with what I thought will turn out to be a fairly decent plot line. Dunno how long it will take, or how many chapters this will end up being, but at some point, this will include all of our favorites from the show, including a little bit more with how the whole Daryl/Judith/Rick thing worked out. Again, thanks for the awesome feedback everyone, and as long as the reviews keep coming in, I'll keep trying to do a chapter a day. : )

* * *

"Hey, Carl?"

"Yeah?"

"You uh… You ever think your dad regrets giving Judy to my mom and dad?" Micah asked quietly.

Carl's eyebrows nearly flew off his head. "Uh… Um… I don't… You're not supposed to know that," He sputtered.

Mikey shrugged. "Overheard your dad and Andrea talkin' 'bout it once. Was cleanin' some squirrels in the courtyard… They didn't know I was there. Your dad started talkin' 'bout how hard it was, watchin' another guy raise his kid… but on the same hand, how he couldn't stand to look at Judy, 'cause it reminded him of your real mom."

"Shit… Look, Mikey… It's complicated, alright?" Carl said slowly. "But this… You can't let your folks know that you know, okay?"

"Why not?"

Carl sighed in agitation. "Because it's just… It's just complicated!" He snapped.

It was quiet for a few minutes, before Mikey finally spoke again.

"Do _you_ regret it?"

Luckily, Carl was saved from having to reply, as he seen the flashlight from the other tower flash twice in rapid secession.

"That's your dad. C'mon. Let's go."

* * *

Daryl frowned at the pissed look on Carl's face as they met mid-way between the two towers. "Problem, boys?"

"No," Carl said quickly. "What's up? We calling it a night, or we switching positions?"

Daryl glanced at Mikey. "Wanna take a gander, kid?" He asked gruffly.

Mikey thought for a minute, before answering, "Cuttin' the numbers down. If we all stay up all night, won't be anybody who isn't exhausted tomorrow. So we cut groups of three down to one person. Maybe even spread ourselves a bit thinner, stretch 'em out hundred an' fifty feet, two hundred feet. That way everybody can get a chance to get some sleep. Right?"

Daryl chuckled, ruffling his son's curly black hair. "S'good, kid. Anyways, you two are on third shift. Carl, your dad wants to talk to you 'fore you disappear with Beth. Who's sleepin' in _our_ cell block, with _my_ kids, so keep it in your pants, a'ight? Mikey, when ya head up, let ya ma know I wanna talk ta her if she's still awake."

" 'Kay, dad. G'night."

Daryl sighed as both boys disappeared up the hill. Despite what he'd said, he knew he'd probably hold out the night. Mikey'd had a long day; might as well let the kid get some sleep.

He knew he was a little… rough on the boy sometimes. Carol was always the gentle one, the reassuring one. Daryl didn't even try that route. Knew that wasn't his thing. No point in trying to be something he wasn't. But despite his lousy parenting skills, the kids seemed to be turning out alright for the most part.

He chuckled a bit, as he started the climb back up the tower. He might've had a bit too much influence on 'em though. Carol was really starting to hammer on him about the language thing. Supposed she had a right though; He'd gotten more than a few complaints from the women about Judy dropping the 'f' bomb, among other inventive curses. Some of 'em were actually kind of impressive, he had to admit.

"Daddy?"

"Shauna? What the hell ya doin' outta bed, girl?" He asked, shock crossing his face as his oldest daughter appeared in the tower.

"Mama fell asleep after Maggie told her everything was okay; Mikey said you wanted to talk to her, so I figured I'd come down and see if you wanted her specifically, or if you needed something. 'Sides, I brought you down somethin' to eat. Figured you might be kinda hungry."

Daryl grinned as he accepted the proffered bowl. "Thanks. Ya know ma's gonna be pissed when she finds out ya were out wanderin' this late though. Whatchya still doin' up, huh?"

The girl shrugged, the dim light from the candle flashing on the beads braided into her hair, as Daryl made a mental note to thank Maggie for picking 'em up on her last run. "Cell's kinda crowded, ya know? Between mom, Judy, Linda, and Amy, there wasn't much room." She hesitated for a minute, before timidly asking, "You mind if I ask ya a question?"

Daryl grunted through a mouthful of a food, swallowing it down mostly unchewed, as he said, "Shoot, girl. Let's hear whatchya got."

"Well… I was just wondering… You and mom… Did you… I mean, I know you guys aren't married but… did you know each other before all the walkers and everything?"

"Uh… no. Me an' your mom… We met up, 'bout a month after everything went down. She was actually married ta another guy. Real douche bag. But me an' her… We uh… We kinda… sorta, I mean… I guess ya could say we hooked up 'bout a year 'fore we found you."

"Oh."

Daryl sighed, setting the bowl down. "Ya got somethin' ta say, Shauna, jus' spit it out."

"Well… I mean… there's not a lot of uh… Not a lot of people left, ya know? And I guess… I guess I was just wondering if I'd ever meet somebody. Settle down, like you and ma did."

Daryl's eyes got huge, and he could feel his face turn red as panic coursed through him. "This ain't 'bout…_that_… is it?" He choked out. " 'Cause if it is, you's gonna have ta talk ta mama 'bout that."

Shauna rolled her eyes as she sat down Indian-style across from her father. "No, daddy, it's not about sex. I just wanna know if… I mean, I see that you and mama found each other, and Carl and Beth, and Maggie and Glen… I just… I dunno, I guess it's stupid, but… Do you love mom?"

"Yeah," Daryl said suspiciously. "Ya know I do."

"And you guys didn't just… 'hook up' 'cause there wasn't anybody else?"

" 'Course not! What the hell are ya gettin' at, girl?"

"I guess… I'm just wondering if I'll ever fall in love. I mean… There's nobody here my age, other than Mikey. Daniel's four years younger, and Jordan's almost six years older."

"Shit, Shauna, is that all this is? Jesus, girl, ya only thirteen. Ya got a lotta years 'fore ya gotta start worryin' 'bout bein' an old spinster," He said with a forced laugh. "Your mom's seven years older than I am. Once ya get a little older… Age don't matter so much," He said with a shrug. " 'Sides, ya ma an' me? I was thirty-five, she was forty-two. Sometimes, things uh... they jus' take some time."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Alright folks... It's question time. I need to know what you think about a few things, or where you'd like to see this go. I was briefly considering doing an introductory chapter for all of the children; one or two chapter each, describing their arrival (or gifting in Judy's case), and then how they acclimated and all that. Is that something you guys would be interested in, or should I just start plowing away with the actual story? I'm not entirely sure what it will entail yet, other than more with the growing conflict between Rick and Daryl. So if you have any ideas on that too, feel free to shoot them to me in a PM, or leave them in a review. Again, thanks to everyone who's been reading this, and special thanks to those of you who have reviewed. : )

* * *

"Daryl?"

Daryl carefully turned his head, grimacing a bit as he felt Shauna's small hands tighten their grip on his own hands.

"Up here, Rick," He called back quietly, trying to disentangle himself from his daughter, who had fallen asleep with her head on his lap, her elbow digging painfully into his ribcage. "Give me a minute."

"Daddy?" Shauna said sleepily, a yawn threatening to split her jaw as she looked up at him bleary eyed. "What's goin' on?"

He wrapped his long sleeve shirt around her tighter, gently laying her back down. "Nothin', sweet pea. I'll be back in a sec, a'ight?" When she mumbled something under her breath, and started snoring again, he rolled his eyes, and started down the concrete stairs, rubbing at the stitch in his side.

"What's goin' on?" He asked wearily, rubbing at his eyes.

Rick looked well rested at least, he thought bitterly, glaring at the one-time deputy, standing there clean shaven, in clean clothes.

"You never woke anyone to take your shift. Wanted to make sure everythin' was okay, an' then I ran into Carol on my way out. Shauna up there with you?"

Daryl hated the way his shoulders tensed whenever Rick mentioned any of his children, but over the past few years, he'd given up trying to stop the reaction. Stopped hoping for the easy camaraderie that the small band of survivors had had so long ago. While everyone still looked to him as second-in-command, the rift that had started with Judy, and grown as more people joined their settlement had slowly turned into a chasm as the years went by.

"Yeah. Came up ta bring me somethin' ta eat, an' ended up fallin' asleep. Figured I was wired anyways; no point in wakin' her _an_' somebody else up to cover for me," He grumbled.

"So it's been quiet?"

Daryl couldn't help the sideways glance he threw at the other man. "Nah, big group rolled up 'bout an hour 'go, so I made 'em tea an' biscuits, gave 'em some guns, an' sent 'em skippin' along. 'Course it's been quiet."

Rick nodded, before sighing, crossing his arms over his chest. "Daryl... We ever gonna get past this?" He asked quietly.

"Pas' what?" Daryl asked, knowing full-well what the other man was asking, but refusing to play along, to be drawn into the game.

"Past... everything with Judith. Hell, was that even what started all this?"

"Jesus, Rick, it's six o'clock in the damn mornin'. I'm cold, I'm sore, an' I'm tired. I ain't havin' a damn heart-to-heart like a group a women 'bout your hurt feelin's. If you're here ta relieve me, I'll grab Shauna an' head back ta our cell, otherwise... this conversation's over."

* * *

Carol breathed a sigh of relief, as Daryl entered the cells, Shauna still nuzzled against his chest, as her father carried her bridal style. While she knew that Shauna hadn't gone far, and was most likely with her father, that still hadn't stopped her from fretting. She would've gone down to see for herself, but unfortunately...

Daryl's eyes narrowed to slants as he took in the multitude of children sitting at the two tables. "Do I wanna know?"

She laughed as she followed him back into their cells. "I figured I'd give everybody a chance to sleep in. Don't worry, they're all going home."

Daryl snorted as he laid Shauna down in her bed. "Uh huh. So where's ours?"

"Mikey's still sleeping; Judy went with Beth and the twins over to Glen and Maggie's."

Daryl flashed her a grin as they started back towards the common area. "Too bad we got all these kids runnin' 'round," He said slyly, plopping down in an open space a the table.

It was Carol's turn to snort as she dropped a bowl of oatmeal in front of him. "Sure. We both know by the time you get done eating, I'll be lucky if you remember to take your boots off before you fall asleep."

As Carol puttered around, wiping dirty faces, picking up empty dishes, and started pulling last night's laundry down from the clothes line, she couldn't help but smile as the children bombarded Daryl with questions, crawling on his lap, all of them with rapt attention as he entertained them with stories. But then parents arrived to pick up their children. The last one to go was Linda, the seven year old daughter of one of the Woodbury escapees.

"Thanks for keeping an eye on her, Carol," Dana Kaminski said with a smile.

"Any time, Dana. 'Sides, it was mostly Beth."

Dana rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Uh huh. I'll have Harley bring something over for you later. Linda, tell Carol thank you."

The little red-head flashed her toothy smile as she waved. "Thank you, Mrs. Dixon!"

"You're very welcome, Linda," Carol said with a laugh as the two departed, leaving her and Daryl alone for the first time.

"Thank Christ, I thought the skinny brat would never leave," Daryl grumbled under his breath as he dropped his bowl in the wash basin.

Carol smiled, knowing Daryl was complaining just to complain again. "Uh huh. So how'd Mikey do last night?"

There was no mistaking the pride on Daryl's face as he sat back down. "Did great. Kid's got a good head on his shoulders, when he wants ta use it. Probably 'bout time ta start lettin' him go out on his own."

"We'll talk about it later. Why don't you head in, before you fall asleep at the table again?" She said with a chuckle.

Daryl sighed, as he laid his crossbow on the table, and began untying his boots. "I'll be a'ight. 'Sides, that group could still roll through."

"I thought... Maggie said they'd most likely followed the main road; shouldn't they be miles away by now?" She asked with a frown.

"Not if they decided to bed down for the night. Had ta be close to eight, eight thirty when Glen an' Maggie spotted 'em; they couldda just gotten far enough away from town ta feel safe, an' camped for the night."

"If they do, I'm sure Rick can handle it," Carol said firmly, hands on her hips. "You need sleep. I'll wake you up if anything happens."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Alright, so this chapter introduces the first day, and (partially) the night that they have Judith. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed; you guys make it easy to continue. : )

* * *

Carol took a deep breath, unsure of what to do, as Daryl paced the floor angrily, clinging tightly to Judith, who's face was covered in tears.

"Daryl... Are we... I mean, did... Why don't you give me the baby," She finally settled on.

"I can't believe the balls on him!" Daryl snapped, turning to look at her. "He jus' threw his damn _kid_ away, an' he wants us ta feel sorry for _him_!"

"Daryl... You need to give Judy to me, alright? You're scaring her," Carol said quietly, taking a step towards him, seeing the petrified look on the nine-month old's face.

He took a step back, wrapping his arms around the baby tighter. "I wouldn't ever hurt her! I wouldn't _hurt_ her!"

"I know you wouldn't, Daryl, but you _are_ scaring her. Look at her, Daryl. You either need to calm down, or give her to me. Alright?"

She could see the panic in both sets of eyes, and for a moment, she felt a bit of her own panic, as the sudden realization of what had just happened finally began to sink in. A child. An _infant_. They barely had their lives -let alone their relationship – figured out, and now they were responsible for another life.

"Let's just... take a few deep breathes, alright? We uh... We have to think this through."

_There_. She could physically see the change come over her partner as he suddenly had _purpose_ again. In the year that they'd lived together, she'd come to realize that without a purpose, without something to do, something to make him feel useful, to occupy his mind, he would get nervous. Anxious.

Maybe even _afraid_.

"A'ight. What do we need? What does _she_ need?" Daryl asked, sitting down, and setting Judy on his knee, where she gurgled and cooed as she grasped at the buttons on his vest.

Carol took a deep breath as she sat down opposite of him. "Um... I think we could um... Probably most of it we can just get from Rick."

"No!" Daryl's response was quick and harsh. "Like _hell_. Ya make me a damn list, an' I'll go find the shit she needs. I ain't takin' _nothin'_ from him. Ya undestand? Not a damn thing!"

"Alright. Alright, um... She uh... She's probably old enough, she doesn't need the formula, if we can get her vitamins... We'll need clothes, and blankets... maybe some toys."

Daryl nodded, pulling the baby into another tight embrace. "I'll go on a run," He said fervently, laying one hand on the back of Judy's blond curls. "I'll get her whatever she needs." He glanced up at Carol, unshed tears filling his eyes. "I'm gonna take care a her, Carol. She needs me, an' I ain't gonna let her down, ya understand? Rick tossed her out, but I ain't gonna let her down."

Carol stood, walking over to him, and pulling Judy out of his grasp, hugging the little girl to her own chest. "I know you won't, Daryl. And I won't either. Get Glen to go with you."

* * *

It was a few hours later when Daryl finally returned, carrying three large backpacks that he unceremoniously dropped on the floor to the common room in front of Carol and Judy.

"A'ight, I got uh... I got clothes... Lots a clothes, wasn't sure what size she was in, so I got lots of 'em... Got a few different types of vitamins... some a those washable diapers... Few blankets... an' a couple teddy bears, an' toys," He said, pulling the items out of the bags as he spoke.

Carol chuckled as she glanced over the assorted items. "Wow. You really went all out, huh?" She asked as she picked up some of the clothes. Her eyebrows raised as she held out a baby blue, frilly dress. "Really?"

Daryl shrugged uncomfortably, as he sat down, a small smile coming to his face as Judy crawled over to him, babbling happily. "I dunno... Jus'... Tryin' ta make sure she had anythin' she might need. How's she doin'?"

"She's fine. Daryl... You have to understand... She's young enough right now that none of this means anything to her. Kids at this age... They adapt to change like it's nothing. If... If we don't tell her... she won't remember Rick as her father."

Daryl grunted as he pulled Judy into his lap. "Good. Carol... I gotta... I gotta ask... I didn't... I uh... I never asked how you uh..."

Carol smiled as she set a hand on his arm. "You don't have to, Daryl," She said with a chuckle. "Judy practically lives here anyways. I've taken care of her more than Rick or Andrea. I love that little girl like she was my own. Which I suppose she is now."

"I don't know... I don't know if I can do this," Daryl said slowly. "I mean... I dunno how ya put up with me, an' I don't know why. Ain't sure I _wanna_ know. But I'm gonna try. I ain't got much ta give... I ain't all that bright, ain't all that smart... Ain't all that nice sometimes," He said with a self-deprecating smile. "But I uh... Crazy as it sounds... I love ya. An' I promise, I'm gonna do right by you an' this little girl."

* * *

It was late; how late, Daryl wasn't sure.

It had been weird enough adjusting to sharing a bed with Carol; taken him almost two months before he'd gotten used to waking up next to another person. Before he'd stopped jumping every time Carol moved.

Or maybe it'd just taken that long for Carol to learn to sleep on the far of their bed. He'd lost count of how many times he'd come to, only to see his hand holding a knife to Carol's throat.

That was the reason he was still awake. The small body laying in between him and Carol tossed, and turned every which way, and when it came down to it, Daryl didn't trust himself to fall asleep. Even putting his knife on the other side of the room, he wasn't willing to risk what he might do.

So he settled for laying on his side, staring at his new family.

Carol looked so peaceful, laying there with one arm around Judy. He knew he didn't deserve either of 'em.

At best, Daryl knew he was an insufferable asshole. At worst...

Well, that didn't really bear thinking about.

He'd always avoided relationships, before the Walker outbreak. Hell, a one-night stand was about eleven hours longer than anything he wanted. He knew who he was, and what he was, and he knew that that didn't exactly lend itself to being a good husband or father.

But, he'd always believed in playing the hand that had been dealt to him. And whether it was God, or Fate, or Karma, or whatever bullshit that was controlling things... He'd been dealt a full house. A winning hand.

Time to step up, be a man, and play the hand.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Alright, so I'll admit... this chapter is choppy as hell, and I do apologize. I had a hard time trying to figure out how to introduce Shauna, and I just couldn't get anything I wanted. So I decided to just post what I had, and keep plugging away. I've got a mildly intense chapter started for Mikey, so I decided to just post this and get it out, so I could push on with the next chapter. Again, I am sorry, and I probably will go back and rewrite this at a later time, but still... Anyways, enough of my ramblings. On to the story. Thanks everyone for reading, adding me to your lists, and special shout outs to everyone who has reviewed. : )

* * *

"Keep close," Daryl hissed, as Glen started to fall behind.

"Wait a minute... There's somethin' movin' over there," The Asian said quietly. "Third time the curtains been pulled back."

Daryl let his gaze follow Glen's as he paused for a moment. "Ain't our problem," He said finally. "C'mon, we gotta meet up with Tyrese."

"What if it's other survivors?" Glen asked stubbornly, setting his heels.

"What if it is?" Daryl asked angrily. "They's jus' as scared a us, as we are a them. If they needed help, they wouldda come out. Now c'mon; I ain't hangin' 'round here all day."

"No. I'm gonna go check it out."

The two men locked eyes for a minute, each sizing the other up, before Daryl rolled his eyes. "Fine. Let's go. Hopefully they don't shoot us," He added, as he started towards the door of the small house.

" 'Lo? Anybody in here?" He called out as he stepped inside, grimacing as the smell of rotting corpses hit his nose.

"Looks like somebody tried to make a final stand here," Glen said quietly, glancing around at the scattered bodies with crushed heads.

"Yeah, question is, which group was the last one standin': people or geeks," Daryl grunted, moving through what had probably been a living room at one point.

"Hello?" Glen called out, a bit louder than Daryl had. "We're here to help."

Daryl made a shushing motion with his hand, as he pointed at the closed door at the end of the hallway, stepping over corpses as he advanced forward.

"Some a these bodies aren't even cold yet," Glen whispered.

Daryl spared him a glare, but didn't answer as he reached for the doorknob. As soon as his hand jiggled the the knob, he heard something click behind the door.

"Down!" He yelled, dropping to his belly amid the corpses, hoping Glen had done the same, as three shots rang out, the bullets still barely missing his head.

"Hey, we's jus' here ta help!" He yelled.

"Go away!"

He turned, eyes wide as he stared at Glen. The voice that had called out couldn't belong to anyone but a child.

"Look, kid, we ain't here ta hurt ya, a'ight? We jus' wanna help!"

"I don't need your help! Go away!"

"Kid... listen, it looks like a damn bloodbath out here. Ya got anybody hurt in there? We got medical supplies."

There was a few minutes of silence, before he heard the lock turning. A moment later, a tiny sliver of a small face appeared around the door.

"My grammy... she's sick," came the suspicious response. "Can you help her?"

"I ain't promisin' nothin', but... Ya jus'... lemme in, an' I'll take a look at her, a'ight?"

"You leave your weapon outside. And just you; the other man stays outside."

"A course; whatever ya want," Daryl said soothingly, laying his crossbow down, and holding his hands up. "We's jus' here ta help."

The door opened further, and Daryl forced a smile.

"C'mon; she's this way," The little African-American girl said quietly. "But if you try anything... I'll shoot you."

"Fair 'nough. Glen, can ya toss me the bag?"

"No!" The girl practically yelped, cocking the gun again. "No, you walk over, and you get it! Slowly!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Daryl exclaimed, walking over to Glen, making sure to keep his hands up. "Whatever ya say, jus' calm down, a'ight? I can't help ya grandmom if ya shoot me!"

"Daryl, this isn't smart," Glen whispered as he handed Daryl the bag. "She's so jumpy, she's gonna shoot you on accident!"

"This was your brilliant idea, Chinaman," Daryl hissed, yanking the bag away roughly. "Little late ta be changin' ya damn mind."

He turned back towards the young girl, holding the bag out to his left, keeping his right held up. "A'ight, lead the way, girly."

* * *

"My grammy isn't sick."

Daryl turned in surprise as the girl shut the door, clicking the lock behind her. "Um... A'ight... so why'd ya let me in?" He asked cautiously, glancing around the room. There was nobody else, and no other doors.

"I wanted to talk to you. You... you kinda sound like my dad," She said, leaning against the door, but still keeping the gun trained on him.

"Ya lyin' 'bout ya dad bein' on his way too?" He grunted, dropping down to rest on his ankles.

The girl hesitated for a minute, biting her lip, before nodding. "Yeah. The... the _things_... they got grammy first, a couple weeks ago. Then... They got my dad."

"How long ya been on ya own?"

The girl sighed. " 'Bout a week now."

"Whole week, huh? How old're ya?" Daryl asked quietly, mildly impressed with the little wisp of a girl.

"Eleven and a half."

"Well... shit, girly, I'm impressed. Ya pretty damn smart for eleven and a half. But what's the point a all this?"

"I... I followed you. Last time you were here. You... you were with the two women. The one with dreads, and the blonde?"

"Uh huh. What's ya point?"

"I'm not stupid; you said yourself, I'm smart. I know... My dad warned me about... well, what guys do to girls. But... the women you were with... they didn't seem like..." She trailed off, looking unsure for the first time.

It was Daryl's turn to sigh. "Ya dad was right... Lotta people out there... They do a lotta bad things. But our group... We have women, a few kids... Why don't you c'mon back with us? Ya can keep ya gun, leave any time ya want... See if ya like it, how's that sound?"


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Alright, so this is the last chapter focusing on the kiddies; next one will jump back to where we left off. Thanks to everyone who read, and special shout outs to those of you who have been reviewing. Especially after that last train wreck of a chapter. Now I will say, while all three of the children will have prominent roles in the upcoming story, the plot is going to focus around Mikey; not that it will be all about him, but certain events are going to center around him. Just a heads up. : ) Idle curiosity on my part, who's y'all's favorite kid so far?

* * *

Daryl sighed, rolling his head to the side to crack his neck.

"We definitely need to get some better chairs up here," Tyrese grumbled, stretching his arms above his head.

Daryl grunted in agreement; it was too early, and he was too tired to do much more than that. Judging by the sunrise, had to be close to six, meaning their replacement should be there soon.

"Hey, ya think Carol would mind if I had breakfast at your place when we get back?"

Daryl gave him a weary grin. "Michonne still experimentin' at the stove?"

Tyrese rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Yesterday? She tried feedin' me rat steaks that she coated in chili powder."

Daryl shook his head with a chuckle. "That's nasty; everybody knows the only way to cook rat is boilin' it, an' makin' stew outta it."

"Man, you serious? Damn, you white folks be all sorts a cra – hey, what the hell is that?" The large man cut off sharply, grabbing his binoculars.

Daryl was already lining up his scope, letting the sight rest on the lone figure who'd just appeared on the edge of the tree line.

"That isn't a walker," Tyrese said after a few moments. "Movin' too fast. Gotta be human."

"For the time bein' at least," Daryl scoffed, setting the rifle down, and grabbing his bow. "C'mon."

"Aw shit, Daryl," Tyrese swore quietly as they got closer to the fence. "He's just a kid, man."

"Yeah, an' by the looks of it, life ain't exactly been his friend lately," Daryl grunted, moving towards the gate, feeling his own heart sinking.

The boy couldn't have been much older than thirteen or fourteen; small, and stocky, the kid looked like he'd been through hell a few times over. His face was a mass of various colored bruises, dragging his left leg behind him, arm held tight against his chest as he limped towards the fence, moving at a decent clip as walkers appeared at the edge of the woods.

"Hey! Kid!" Daryl called out as he unlocked the gate. "You a'ight? You been bit?"

The kid froze where he stood, a few yards from the gate, his eyes wide. "I... no, I ain't... I need help, mister... please," He panted.

"Daryl! Walkers!" Tyrese called out sharply.

"Shit. C'mon kid; get your skinny ass in here," Daryl barked, glancing to his right, and spotting at least two walkers coming to investigate. "C'mon, I ain't got all day! Move it!"

The boy swayed on his feet. "I... I need help," He repeated.

Daryl took a step closer. "Then move your ass, kid!"

He swore as the kid dropped, finally moving outside the gate. "Tyrese, cover me!" He shouted, darting out to where the kid lay unmoving, and swinging the boy up and over his shoulder. Once back inside the fence, he turned long enough to make sure Tyrese locked the gate, before hauling ass up towards the prison.

* * *

Carol sat bolt upright as she heard the large door to the common area swing open, the metal grating roughly against the concrete floor.

"Daryl?" She called out nervously. Most days, he took great care to make sure he didn't wake her or the girls when he came in; the fact that he hadn't taken his time to open the door slowly clued her in to the fact that something was wrong.

"Hershel!" Was the only response she heard.

"Shauna, stay here," Carol said quickly, pushing the still-sleeping Judy closer to her oldest daughter, who was staring around bleary-eyed. "I'll be right back."

She practically bolted out of the cell, nearly colliding with Hershel as she neared the door separating the dormitories from the living area.

"Daryl, what's – oh my God."

He was kneeling next to a small, limp body laying on the floor. Hershel immediately dropped down next to the two, his crutches clattering to the floor, as he spared Carol a quick glance.

"Carol, I'll need my first aid kit, and some water. Oh, and some blankets!" He called after her.

"Mama, what's going on?" Shauna asked with a yawn, standing just inside the cell. "Everything all right?"

"Everything's fine, honey, go back to bed," Carol said quickly, taking a second to give her daughter a tight smile. "We'll be in in a minute."

"He bit, doc?" Daryl asked quietly.

The older man frowned. "No... But he took one hell of a beating, and that's for sure. Nothing that won't heal, but that arm is going to have to be set; from the look of it, I'd say the ankle is just a bad sprain. Ah, thank you, Carol."

Carol gave him a tight smile, as she dropped to her knees next to Daryl. "What the hell happened?" She asked quietly, as Hershel set to wrapping the kid's ankle with gauze.

Daryl didn't look at her as he watched the slow, steady rise and fall of the boy's chest. "Dunno. Came outta the woods, said he wasn't bit... then he jus' fell. So I grabbed him," He muttered. "Aw shit." He leaned in closer, picking the kid's arm up, feeling a surge of anger as he inspected the small burns, some long since healed, some still red and puss-filled.

"Daryl?"

"Cigarettes," He said sharply, his words contrasting with the gentle way he set the boy's arm down. "Kid was used as a damn ashtray."

Hershel sighed. "Daryl... I'm going to need you to hold his chest down while I set that arm. Carol, you get his feet. Carefully, now; watch his ankle."

* * *

Daryl cracked his neck again, fighting back a yawn as he stretched out in the metal folding chair, keeping his gaze locked on the small figure laying on the bed. It'd been two hours since he'd brought the kid into the cell; Carol had tried getting some food and water down his throat, but hadn't had any luck.

They had cut his shirt off before laying him down; Daryl hadn't been terribly surprised to see the scars and bruises had continued onto the kid's chest. Had kind of been expecting it, to be honest.

"How's he doing?"

Daryl forced a tired smile to his face as Carol knelt down next to the bed, laying the back of her hand on the boy's forehead.

"Dunno. Ain't moved."

Both adults jumped a bit as a small moan escaped the boy.

"Hey? Kid, can ya hear me?"

One brown eye slowly cracked open, fluttering a bit, before locking onto Daryl.

"Where..."

"Hey, jus' take it easy, kid. What's ya name?"

There was a few minutes hesitation, before the quiet reply of, "Micah. Mikey."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Alright so firstly, thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed. Secondly... I've got a lot of ideas running around in my head right now, for this, and my other two stories, along with a couple one-shots I want to try and get up... So I'm going to take a wee break, and not allow myself to post anything for at least three days. I've gotta try and pull all my thoughts together, because right now, all of my stories are just sort of meandering along, the plot being left behind the way side. So... Yeah, sorry. But I wanted to give y'all a chapter (again, mostly filler) to remember me by. : )

* * *

"Dad?"

Daryl groaned, rolling over onto his stomach, and pulling the pillow over his head. "What?"

"It's four o'clock. Ma told me to wake you up," Mikey said apologetically. "She's just startin' dinner. I got a couple rabbits this mornin'; she's gonna make a stew."

"A'ight," Daryl grumbled, pulling the pillow off his head. "Judy back from Glen a'n Maggie's yet?"

"Uh huh. Her an' Shauna are helpin' ma. Long night?"

Daryl grunted as he sat up, not liking his son's tone as he started putting his boots on. "Yeah, it was. You got a problem?"

Mikey sighed, plopping down on a chair. "Yeah, dad, I do. Everybody else got woken up for their shift. Everybody... but _me_. Now the other guys... They're all sayin' that... That I ain't old enough. That y'all don't trust me. And that's why ya didn't wake me up."

"Oh c'mon, Mikey. Ya know that ain't true," Daryl said tiredly. "Look, your sister came out, brought me some food... she fell asleep, an' I didn't see the point of wakin' both of ya. It ain't a big deal. It ain't 'cause I didn't trust ya."

"I know that, dad. But the other guys..." Mikey let out a deep breath, scratching the back of his head. "I jus'... I dunno."

"Mikey... Come here, kid," Daryl said softly, patting the bed. When Mikey slowly obeyed, Daryl sighed. "Look... There's two ways ya can handle this, a'ight? Ya can either ignore it. Ya know I trust ya. So what they think a ya, don't mean shit... Ya can jus' let it slide off ya back."

Mikey snorted. "Yeah. Great advice, dad. Pretend it doesn't happen, an' be a wuss. What's the second option?"

Daryl looked him firmly in the eye. "Ya stomp their asses. Ya beat 'em, an' ya beat 'em good. Don't stop 'til they stop movin'. I taught ya how ta win a fight. You play dirty, an' ya play ta win."

"Yeah, but there's two a them, Dad. An'... they're a lot bigger than me."

Daryl frowned. "Mikey, there's only one boy older than ya. An' Jordan ain't all that big; hell, ya damn sister kicked his ass. Jus' who the hell is givin' ya problems?" When Mikey stayed silent, absently rubbing the back of his left hand – something he did whenever he was nervous – Daryl reached over, and gave him a light swat on the back of the head. "Hey! I asked ya a damn question. Who the hell is botherin' ya, Micah?"

"It's Tommy and Alex." Both father and son looked up as Shauna entered the cell. "They've been teasing him for a few weeks now. Ever since Rick sent him with Carl and Glen on that run. They were pushing him around this morning when he came back with dinner," She said quietly, folding her arms over her chest.

"Shauna!" Mikey said angrily. "What the hell?! You _said_ you wouldn't say nothin'!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Daryl snapped, standing up. "_Tommy_, an' _Alex_? Compton?"

"Dad... It's not... Look, it's not a big deal, okay?" Micah mumbled, glaring at Shauna. "I... Jus' forget it, a'ight? Dad? Dad!"

Daryl ignored his children, storming through the common area.

"Daryl? What's going on?" Carol asked curiously, looking up from the small pot she had cooking over the fire.

"What's goin' on is some ass is gettin' kicked," Daryl snarled. "Keep the kids here."

"Dad, don't!" Mikey pleaded.

"Nah, that shit ain't gonna fly. S'bad enough Tommy, but Alex? Nuh huh. No way."

* * *

"Shauna, Micah, what the hell is going on?" Carol demanded, hands on her hips as she turned towards her two oldest children. "Where's your father going?"

"Tommy an' Alex Compton were hasslin' Mikey this morning," Shauna said with a shrug, moving towards the table.

"Jesus, Shauna!" Mikey swore. "Do you _ever_ keep your damn mouth shut?!"

Judy's eyes went huge, and she stood up on her chair. "Mama's gonna wash your mouth with soap!" She said in a sing-song tone.

"Judy, hush," Carol said absently, looking at her son. "Micah, why didn't you say anything?"

Micah's jaw moved for a few seconds, nothing coming out, before asking, "Ma, rather than worry about me, why don't you worry about dad?!"

Carol sighed. "Mikey... I'd be more worried about Tommy and Alex than I would your father."

* * *

"Hey! Compton!" Daryl snapped, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he stormed into Cell Block F, which thirty-year old Alex and his twenty-one year old brother Tommy shared with Tyrese, Michonne, and another older couple. "Get ya asses out here!"

"Daryl? What the hell is goin' on?" Tyrese demanded, stepping out of a cell.

"Stay outta this, Tyrese," Daryl growled, moving up the stairs. "Compton!"

He found the two brothers playing cards in a cell. "What the hell did ya do ta my boy?"

"Jesus, Dixon," Alex said, rolling his eyes. "The hell is your problem?"

"My... _problem_? Ya go messin' with my kid, an' ya gonna ask me what my problem is?"

"You better back up, man," Tommy spat, standing up, and getting in his face.

Big mistake. Daryl lashed out, landing a vicious blow to the younger brother's gut. When Tommy doubled over, Daryl used one hand to slam his head into the bars, turning quick enough to dodge the hay-maker Alex threw at him, and throw one of his own that connected with the older brother's head.

And just like that, it was over. Neither of the brothers got up again, and Daryl scoffed.

"Ya ever go near any a my kids again? I'll turn ya in ta Geek bait."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Alright so... Yeah, I'm a liar. I had yet another lost battle with insomnia (got my butt whooped, really), so I decided as long as I was awake, I might as well get my thoughts in order, and get some new chapters out. Some quick notes... Firstly, the actual story -with a plot line and everything!- will start in the next chapter. Kinda sad, nine chapters in, and I'm just getting around to an actual story arc. But whatever. Secondly, I'm curious as to whether or not you people would like to see a 'Caryl' moment in the bedroom. I'll warn you that it wouldn't be titillating or anything; I think I've made my position on their sex lives quite clear in this story lol. But again, I wanted to ask before I just went ahead and did it, get some thought and input from you guys. Anyways, thanks to everyone who has read, special shout outs and thanks to everyone who's reviewed. : )

* * *

"So...?"

Daryl grunted as he pulled his boots off, glaring at Carol, who was already in her pajamas in bed. The kids were all in bed already, Judy having decided to sleep in with Shauna for the night.

"So, I kicked their asses, tol' 'em next time, I'd feed 'em ta the Walkers," He muttered, sliding onto the bed next to her, pulling his shirt over his head, and throwing it across the room.

She chuckled as she wrapped her arms around his back. "Those brothers remind you of anybody?"

Daryl sighed, relaxing into Carol's arms. "Yeah," He admitted. "Only difference is, me an' Merle wouldn't a pushed no damn kids around. Ah, that feels good," He said contentedly, as Carol began rubbing his shoulders. "So uh... Shauna... when she came down to the towers... Started askin' me 'bout... whether she'd ever... fall in love, or some stupid crap like that."

"Do I even want to know what you told her?"

"Tol' her she's too young ta start thinkin' 'bout stuff like that. 'Sides, ain't like there's anybody here for her ta be with." He couldn't help the groan as Carol's hand hit a particularly sore spot.

* * *

Carol smiled softly as she eased up, but kept rubbing at the knotted muscle. It'd taken almost four months of living together before he'd been comfortable enough to let her do this; hell, it'd been two months before he'd even take his clothes off before getting into bed. Even during their fumbling, awkward sex, he'd always kept his shirt on. Blew the candles out before taking off his jeans. She could only imagine how uncomfortable it had made him to listen to his daughter talk about love.

"She's just going through a phase, Daryl. Hormones, and all that."

She could feel him tense under her hands again, and she resisted the urge to chuckle, but she _couldn't_ resist adding, "You know, pretty soon you'll need to give Micah 'the talk'."

The groan had nothing to do with her, as Daryl turned, pulling away from her. "Why me?" He muttered. "You can do it. Hell, ya probably be better at it than I would."

"Because you're his father," She said softly, but firmly. "He needs to hear it from another male."

He scoffed as they both laid down on their side, her back pressed against his front, as he draped an arm around her middle. "Yeah, 'cause I'm a great example."

She sighed as she nestled further against his chest. "Well... You don't hear me complaining, do you?" She felt him stiffen, and knew she was pushing her luck. "Relax," She said with a chuckle. "I'm not asking for anything tonight. We're both tired. I'm just saying that you don't give yourself enough credit. Besides... There's more to 'the talk' than sex."

"See? This is why it should be you," He mumbled, burying his face against her shoulder. "I ain't got no idea 'bout this stuff. Ain't like I ever talked 'bout... _that_... with my ol' man. Hell, I'll probably screw the kid up worse."

She didn't say anything else, letting herself enjoy the closeness of the moment. It was rare that they didn't have Judy, or even Shauna on occasion sleeping in with them, which made even cuddling a rare occurrence. Not to mention that Daryl himself had to be in a certain mood to allow it. Most nights, even when they had the bed to themselves, he would sleep on his side, facing the door, away from her.

One of the myriad of things she'd learned to live with – and even love, in her own way – about life with Daryl Dixon.

Oh, she knew most of the women – and even a few of the men – living in their small community wondered about their relationship. How it could work between the quiet, mousey woman, and the hot-headed, rough redneck.

But she didn't really think about it. It worked, and that was all that mattered. She knew Daryl loved her, even if he didn't show it in a way that most people considered loving. He never kissed her, or held her hand while others were around; never whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

But to be honest, she wasn't sure she would know how to handle those displays if he was inclined towards them. She had never been big on PDA, even before her first disastrous marriage to Ed. Never been a big huggy feely person.

It was the small things that Daryl did that let her know how much he loved her. The small smile he'd give her when he brought back whatever game he'd found that day. The gentleness, and care he took as he showed her how to protect herself.

The way his eyes would follow her, always keeping track of her movements, and her safety.

The unsureness, the hesitance, on the rare occasions they were physical or intimate with each other.

The smile he didn't seem to be aware of as he watched her and his children hustle about the cell and common area at night.

She knew that in a few hours, he'd be up and about, checking on all the children, walking the cells, making sure nothing slipped in unseen. He never slept more than two or three hours at a time, before he'd have to double check the things that he'd already double checked before bedding down for the night. Then he'd come back to bed – back to her – and repeat the process again later. Sometimes she wondered at how well he seemed to function on so little sleep. It was rare for him to sleep more than five or six hours, even with waking up in between.

* * *

Daryl was just starting to fall asleep, when he heard the pitter-patter of little feet.

"Judy?" He called out quietly. A moment later, he seen the small mop of dirty-blonde hair appear in the door frame.

"I had a bad dream," Judy sniffled, standing there, clutching the teddy bear Daryl had brought back on his first run for her three years ago.

Daryl sighed. "Come here, kiddo."

As soon as he'd spoken, the toddler had practically bolted into his arms. When he laid her down in between himself and her mother, Judy snuggled happily beneath the sheets, taking the spot Carol had had a few moments ago, pressing her back against his front. He couldn't help but chuckle as she reached over, and pulled his arm across her.

"G'night, daddy."

"G'night, Ass-Kicker," He whispered back, before drifting back to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Alright so... Little bit more fluffy moments, with a few more insights on the kids, and Daryl's view as their father... I know I said I'd start delving into the plot line, but this seemed like a perfect spot to throw in some fluff, before starting the next morning, seeing as how I probably won't get many more opportunities like this once I actually start nailing down the story. And thanks to everyone who reviewed, and mentioned that you'd like some 'Caryl' moments... They will be coming. : )

* * *

Daryl scrubbed on hand over his face, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes as he stalked out of their cell, the first stop on his patrol Shauna's cell.

Glancing in at the thirteen year old, he couldn't help the sinking feeling in his chest. His little girl was turning into a woman. And a damn fine one, at that, as much as it churned his stomach to think about it. His baby girl was growing up before his eyes. Despite his words, he knew in a few years, she'd be a real head turner. Every boy in the prison would be eyeballing her, and eventually, she'd start eyeballing 'em back. One day she'd find that special guy, and he'd have to put his desires to stomp that young man into the ground aside, and accept the fact that she was a grown-up; free to make her own choices. Have to realize that while no man would ever be good enough for his daughter, he'd have to settle for the one Shauna chose.

But not tonight, he thought with a smile, as she shifted on the bed, her pink bunny PJ's and the bright beads braided into her hair reassuring him that he had a few years, at least. A few more years of her being his baby girl, before he had to start worrying.

Micah was his next stop. Climbing up the stairs to the perch – and that perch brought back more than a few memories – he silently crept by Hershel's cell, taking only a second to peer into Beth's cell. As usual, Carl was wrapped up with the blonde girl. He had to chuckle at the balls the boy had; sneaking in to spend the night when her father was sleeping only ten feet away.

He stopped outside of Micah's cell, knowing if he made any noise, the boy would instantly be wide awake, most likely trying to bash his skull in with the metal pipe the kid kept underneath his pillow.

Watching Micah sleep was always a knife in Daryl's heart. During his waking hours, the kid tried hard as hell to show how tough he was; like a world-weary alley cat, the boy stalked around, eyes always covering any possible threat to himself, his mother, or his little sisters. The swagger the almost fifteen year old kept up as he ran with the much older men, forcing himself to keep up, to be just as good as they were reminded Daryl so much of himself at that age, that it nearly broke his heart. He knew what had caused him to be that way; the thought of somebody treating his boy the same way he'd been treated never failed to send a red-hot flash of murderous rage tearing through his chest.

But in sleep... He looked the lost, broken kid he really was. Curled up on his side, one hand in a tight fist, the other tucked under his pillow, where Daryl knew it held a death grip on the metal pipe. Sleeping in only a pair of flannel pajama bottoms, the white scars covering his chest and arms contrasted sharply with his tanned skin, creating a road map of pain that Daryl understood all too well.

He resisted the urge to sigh, or grunt, or make any sort of noise as he moved away from the cell, back down the perch, and into the room he shared with Carol, and Judy. Even though the four year old had her own cell, Daryl could think of only twice that she'd actually fallen asleep in there; she'd never spent the entire night.

As he crawled back in next to his youngest child, Judy turned towards him, pressing her small body against his, curling her tiny fingers into his hair. He inwardly groaned as he inhaled a lock of her hair, carefully lifting one hand to try and push her unruly curls away from his face, knowing how pointless it was. Sometimes, it seemed like she did it on purpose, he thought with a smile, hugging her close to him.

Judy – or Ass Kicker as he still preferred to call her – was the smallest bundle of spit fire, curiosity, and chaos he'd ever seen. If there was trouble to be had, the four year old would find it, be it from the stray cat she'd adopted (that had clawed her face and hands apart, before Daryl had put his foot down, and made the damn thing stay outside), or teaching her how to swim.

He did chuckle a bit at that particular memory. He'd taken Judy down to the small pond, to give Carol a much needed break for a while. Figuring it couldn't hurt to start teaching his youngest how to fish. He'd barely had the hook attached to the line, when he heard a large splash. He'd just about had a damn heart attack, right then and there, frozen to the spot at the sight of his baby girl, kicking and paddling away like some sort of fish, right in the middle of the pond at three years old.

No fear at all. Judy, more than the other two put together, was going to give him a damn heart attack. More than one person had mentioned that it was a good thing her mother already had gray hair; that he'd better start watching his own, before he ended up with a full head of gray.

But one of his favorite things to hear was how much Judy looked like him and Carol. The only people who knew that Judy wasn't actually theirs was the original members of the group: Maggie, Glen, Hershel, Beth, Carl, Rick, and Andrea. So he always had to bit back a laugh when people would mention how much Judy looked like him. How much of her daddy's personality she had.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Alright, so the story begins! In... chapter... eleven... wow, I really need to start reigning in the plot bunnies. -_- Damn. Anyways, I do want to say... I've been faithfully posting on this, right? I mean, haven't gone more than two or three days with updates ever. Usually I post one every day. There's 36 people with this story on their alert list, 17 with this on their favorites. Forty reviews. Just some numbers for you people to crunch. That being said, special shout-outs to:

MarianArnold, , YouthINasia6, deelove1, iamiweasley, and darkdestiny2000. Y'all are great. : D

* * *

Carol sighed contentedly, the predawn sun pulling her gently from sleep. Just as she'd predicted the night before, Daryl was already up, probably already gone out hunting, or taking a turn at guard duty.

Most likely to get away from the small body that was draped over the entire top half of the bed, she thought with a chuckle, gently disentangling herself from Judy, and practically crawling over the toddler to the edge of the bed. The smell hitting her nose as soon as she exited the cell confirmed her suspicions that Daryl, at the the very least, was already up and gone, probably Micah as well; glancing about the common area, she rolled her eyes at the sight of the dirty frying pan in the wash basin, the two bowls of half-eaten oatmeal still sitting on the table. That had to mean they were on guard duty; both her men were usually fairly good about picking up after themselves, but given the late night they'd all had, they'd probably been running late.

Part of her did wonder why it seemed like Daryl and Micah were always on guard duty somewhere. It was supposed to be set up on a two day on, one day off, six hour rotation, but it always seemed like they were gone so much more than that. Every time somebody 'needed' a break, or had some sort of 'emergency', it seemed like her family were the ones to pick up the slack.

She supposed she shouldn't complain; after all, it did reflect Daryl's position as second-in-command to the group, even if it was a position he wasn't entirely comfortable with. She knew how awkward it made him feel when the others came to him for help, or advice; at first he'd thought it had something to with him being the only one other than Rick from the original group who was any good at leading.

That always made Carol chuckle. Even now, he didn't realize how much everyone depended on him. How good he really was at making decisions.

* * *

Daryl groaned as he stretched his arms above his head, feeling a dull steady ache in his shoulder from his antics yesterday. Much as he hated to admit it, he knew he was pushing on forty; hell, maybe he was forty all ready, he thought idly, wondering for the first time in a long time what month it was. Had to be getting close on to September at least; leaves had started changing color a few weeks ago. Couldn't have been October already.

"Gonna start getting cold soon."

Daryl glanced over at Mikey. "Yeah, probably. Ya need anythin' on the next run?"

The boy looked down at his patch-work jeans, a sheepish smile on his face. " 'Nother pair a long johns would be nice. Ma's done a good job patchin' these ones, but there's only so much ya can do 'fore you're patchin' patches."

"I'll talk ta Glen, see when the next run is. Get ya a couple pair a thermal shirts too. Musta grown three damn inches since last winter."

"Ya think so?"

Daryl resisted the urge to grin. He remembered being that age; the awful in-between, body changing from day to day, but never in the way you wanted it to. He used to measure himself by Merle, wishing he could be as tall as his older brother, but never quite reaching those desired heights. Even once he'd been full grown, Merle had still stood a good head above him.

He'd been short for his age, just like Mikey was, although the kid was stockier than he himself had been. Hell, at fifteen, Daryl hadn't had the ass mass to change a tire, as Merle had always joked. Mikey though... Kid probably wasn't gonna be all that tall, but already, he had some serious muscle to him. Was gonna be a powerhouse in a few years.

"Dad."

Daryl pulled himself from his thoughts, and followed Mikey's finger to where it was pointing towards the creek bed. Frowning, Daryl grabbed the binoculars, growling as he readjusted the sights – Michonne or Maggie must've been the last ones to use the damn things – before turning to Mikey.

"Run up, an' find Rick or Tyrese. Got two people, comin' from the crik bed. Looks like a guy an' girl."

Silently, Mikey ran off to do as he was told. Daryl waited a few seconds, keeping the couple in focus. Looked like an older man, middle aged woman. While they weren't running, they were jogging towards the fence., moving at a decent clip, already across the creek, and moving through the open field. He couldn't be sure, but the slight bulge under the man's jacket could be a gun.

They were close enough. He set the binoculars down, picking up his bow as he moved towards the stairs.

Time to see who exactly was coming knocking.

* * *

"Daryl!"

Daryl turned, seeing Rick and Tyrese coming up behind him.

"What do we got?"

"They're slowing down; older guy, might be carryin' a gun. Woman don't look armed," Daryl grunted, turning back towards the couple.

"Hey! Hey!" The man's voice sounded excited. "Don't shoot!"

"If you're armed, drop your weapons!" Rick called back.

"Nice an' slow like!" Daryl added, as the man reached in his jacket, dropping what looked like a small pistol onto the ground.

"Alright, whatever you say," The man said eagerly, as the two approached the gate. "Damn, but it's good to see people!"

Daryl's eyes narrowed. On closer inspection, the guy was heavier set, balding on top probably in his mid to late forties. The woman must've been at least ten years younger, shorter, with a Native American look to her.

"Where you people comin' from?" He asked suspiciously, as Rick opened the gate. He wasn't sure why, but his gut was churning. Something about the man was setting off every warning bell in his head, and he'd learned a long time ago to listen to his instincts.

"The coast. Savannah," The man said as he stepped in first, followed by the woman.

"Ya woman talk, or she a mute?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, this is my wife, Rosie. She's just a little hungry, aren't ya, babe?" The man said, turning to his wife, and giving her a smile so fake that Daryl's teeth literally began grinding themselves to stumps.

"Yes, it's just... been so long since we've seen other people," The woman said quietly, staring at the ground.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Alright, so thank you for all the lovely reviews firstly : ) they make my day. Secondly, because I know some of you will be wondering... My idea with the cells, and cooking, is obviously they don't have cookstoves or anything. A small enough fire pit, with the ventilation of the windows, they'd probably be just fine. So no criticizing my thoughts! lol j/k, j/k. Thanks for reading, special thanks for reviewing, and enjoy. : )

* * *

"Didn't catch _your_ name, friend," Rick said, and Daryl could tell by Rick's voice that something about the man had made their leader suspicious as well.

"Huh? Oh! I'm Pete. Pete Britton. It's nice to meet you all. So... How many of you are there? You have food? It's been days since we've had anything but grass and nuts out there," The man said with a slight chuckle.

"There's rivers with fish everywhere ya step. Never thought ta try an' catch one?" Daryl scoffed, finally lowering his bow, but keeping his finger on the trigger.

The man looked down, a self-deprecating smile on his face. "I was raised in New York City. Only moved to Savannah the year before all this. Never really got into the whole 'hunting/fishing' thing. We were with a pretty big group up until last week, but we ran into a herd of those... those things. Got separated. Lucky I got Rosie out alive."

Daryl didn't miss the flinch the small woman gave as her husband put his arm around her. Glancing at Rick out of the corner of his eye, he could tell the former Deputy hadn't either.

"Look, you're both welcome to come in... grab some food, get a good night's shut eye. But the group has to vote on whether or not you can stay," Rick said slowly. "You've got two days to make a good impression, starting now. Tyrese, why don't you show these two into your block? I'm sure there's some extra cells we can fit 'em in to. Make sure they get some food, and a couple of blankets."

Tyrese frowned, knowing something was up, but apparently unaware of what exactly it was that had his two friends on edge. "Uh... Sure thing. C'mon this way, folks. I'll have my wife cook you up some food, but I can't make any promises on whether or not it'll be edible."

Daryl leaned closer to Rick as the man laughed, a loud braying sound that they probably could've heard inside the prison.

"Tell me he set ya teeth on edge too," He muttered, his eyes never leaving the three people walking towards his home.

Rick gave him a curt nod. "Every last one. Little convenient, isn't it? That group rolls through two days ago, and then they show up? No way. You see the look on that woman's face when he touched her?"

Daryl grunted his assent. "Gonna ask Tyrese and Michonne to keep an eye on 'em?"

"You bet your ass, I am."

* * *

"Daryl? What's going on?"

Daryl ignored Carol for a moment, peering around the common area. "Where's the kids?" He asked roughly, moving towards the cells.

Carol gave him a strange look as she put her hands on her hips. "Mikey came tearing in here like a bat out of hell; asked Shauna if she wanted to camp outside while the weather was still holding. I figured it was okay. Why? Something wrong?"

Daryl frowned. "Maybe. Got a new couple. Mikey came in ta get Rick; never came back out. They say where they was goin'?"

"Uh... yeah, Micah said they were gonna pitch their tents down by the gardens. They took Judy with them for a while... Daryl, is everything all right?"

Daryl hesitated a moment, before sitting down at the table, drumming his fingers on the table. "Dunno," He admitted, staring at the wall. "Somethin' 'bout the new guy... Somethin' ain't right."

Instantly, Carol dropped her dish rag, coming over to sit down next to her partner. "What do you mean? You think they're dangerous? You think we should get the kids back in here?"

She could see the hesitation in his face, as he bit his lip, the pace of his fingers on the table speeding up. "Dunno... Mean, he didn't say nothin'... Jus' somethin' off 'bout the guy, ya know? Ain't jus' me; Rick said they wasn't sittin' right with him neither."

Carol sighed as she reached over, setting her hands on his, stopping the incessant drumming. "If you're worried... Your instincts have kept us all alive this far," She said with a chuckle. "I'd trust them. So the kids?"

He was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking, before shaking his head. "Nah. Tyrese an' Michonne are gonna keep an eye on the new folks. Let 'em have their fun. I'll go down an' check on 'em in a few hours, make sure they're set for the night."

She lifted his hands to her lips, planting a light kiss on the calloused, rough fingers as she smiled. "Whatever you think, Daryl," She said softly, before standing up, and going back to mopping the floor in front of the small firepit.

"It is weird though," Daryl said after a few moments of silence. When she gave him a quizzical look, he shrugged. "Mikey. Ain't like him ta jus' ditch me like that."

* * *

Shauna watched her older brother pitch the tent silently, Judy playing in the grass between them.

"So you gonna tell me what this is about?" She finally asked. While nobody would ever accuse Mikey of being a gabber – something people said he got from their dad, and a trait she'd do well to try and practice – he was being unusually quiet even for him. He hadn't said a word after he'd come in, and asked her to go camping with him.

And this would make the fourth time he'd missed the stake with the butt of his knife, she thought, her eyes narrowing as he ignored her question.

"Hey! Mikey! I'm talking to you," She finally snapped, throwing a handful of grass at him.

"Huh?"

She rolled her eyes. "I asked what's going on, retard," She repeated. "You haven't said two words since you asked me to come out here with you."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Alright so firstly... Yes, this is a short chapter, but I figured on the off chance the world does end tomorrow, I should leave you guys with something lol. Nah, really though, it just seemed like a good place to end it, and after pounding out a 3K word chapter for my OFC fic, I'm mentally whooped, and my fingers hurt lol. Secondly... Where I grew up in Texas, it's really common for younger siblings to call their older brothers 'Bubba'. Don't know why, but it seems like everybody I know down there with an older brother grew up calling them Bubba. Hell, my thirteen year old cousin still calls his nineteen year old brother Bubba. Don't know if that's a Texas thing, or a Southern thing, but whatever. But special thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. While I won't give away the plot line, I will say that Pete and Rosie are NOT Micah's parents. That'd be a little too obvious, even for me lol. Mwuahahaha. : )

* * *

_Shauna rolled her eyes. "I asked what's going on, retard," She repeated. "You haven't said two words since you asked me to come out here with you."_

"Nothin's goin' on. Jus' figured we should get some campin' in 'fore it starts gettin' cold. Nobody said ya had ta come out here with me," Mikey said gruffly, chucking their sleeping bags into the tent, followed by a lantern.

"Hey, you're the one who asked me to come with you. Why you being so quiet all the sudden?"

"I ain't!"

"Are too, Mikey!" Judy said with a laugh, looking up from the mound of dirt and grass she'd built. "Mama says you're too much like daddy! You never, ever, ever, _ever_ talk! But now you're not talking at all," She added with a frown, before letting out a small squeal of delight as she stuck a stick on top of the hill. "Look, I made a flag!"

Shauna ignored her little sister as Micah sat down in front of the tent, legs folded Indian-style, still not looking at her as he rubbed at the slight fuzz on his face that he liked to call his beard. Shauna knew her brother well enough to know that something was bothering him; not irritating him, but bothering him; seeing as how rarely his face showed what he was feeling, she knew something was seriously wrong.

"Mikey, what's up?" She asked quietly. "The Comptons bothering you again?"

Mikey scoffed. "Like I'd tell ya if they were. You'd jus' run back an' run ya fat mouth ta ma an' dad 'gain."

"Jesus, Micah, is that what this is about? Look, I'm sorry if I hurt your 'macho man' feelings, or whatever, but dad was gonna find out anyways. We both know it. 'Sides, it's not like you were gonna do anything about it."

"I don't need Daryl fightin' my battles for me, okay?!"

Shauna couldn't help the look of surprise that overtook her face. Micah hadn't called their father by name after his first two months of living with them. Hell, it'd taken him less time than it had her to be comfortable enough calling their parents mom and dad.

"Just what the hell is your damn problem, huh?" She snapped angrily, throwing another clump of grass at him.

"Knock it off, Shauna!"

"Not 'til you tell me what's going on!" She shot back.

"Nothin'! Damn, how many times I have ta tell ya?! Ya ears broken or somethin'? Or are ya jus' plain stupid?!"

"Screw you, Mikey! I'm just trying to be nice; why do you have to be such a douche bag?!" She snapped, feeling tears welling up in the corners of her eyes at his words.

"Jesus Christ! All I wanted was a little quiet, an' ya gotta go whinin' like a baby! Ya worse than Judy, ya know that?!"

"You know what? Fine. Whatever. Be an ass," Shauna said angrily, standing up, and brushing the dirt off her jeans. "See if I care. Come on, Judy; let's go see if Dad's back yet."

* * *

Daryl was still sitting at the table, chugging down a cup of something that was supposed to be some sort of coffee, when his daughters came in.

"Daddy!" Judy squealed, running up, and jumping on his lap. "You're back!"

He laughed as he hugged her close. "Hey, Ass-Kicker! You have fun?"

She shook her head vehemently, curls flying back and forth. "No! Bubba an' Shay were arguin', an' Bubba was bein' mean, so Shay said we weren't goin' campin' any more, an' I really wanted to go fishin', but Shay said no," She pouted, before her eyes lit up again. "Wanna play the fishie card game?"

Daryl sighed as he set her down on her feet, giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head. "In a bit, a'ight? Why don't ya go find ya mama, an' help her with the laundry?"

"But, daddy! I wanna play the fishie card game!"

He gave her a stern look, turning her around, and giving her a gentle push towards the cells. "I ain't gonna repeat myself, Judith. Now move it. We'll play a little later, okay?" As Judy trounced off, he turned around, his gaze narrowing as he looked at his oldest daughter. "Wanna tell me what' the hell is goin' on?"

Shauna scoffed as she dropped down on the other side of the table. "The hell if I know. Maybe he's still mad that I told you 'bout the Compton brothers bothering him. Or maybe he just enjoys being an asshole," She added with a snort.

"Language, Shauna!"

Both Daryl and Shauna cringed at the warning tone in Carol's voice.

"I swear, she's got the place bugged," Shauna grumbled, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly.

"Ya tellin' me. Swear, ya mama's got eyes an' ears on the back a her head. An' then I catch hell, 'cause she thinks it's all my fault. Like ya ain't never heard it nowhere else before," Daryl grunted, before standing, stretching his arms over his head. "I'll go talk ta ya brother, a'ight?"

Shauna sighed. "Yeah. Guess I'll go help mom with the laundry."

"That's my girl."


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Alright so, yay for another chapter, right? I'm not sure if if I kept Daryl in character enough or not, but I tried my best. I dunno, lemme know what y'all think in many, many reviews, okay? : )

* * *

"Hey. Ya alright, kid?"

Mikey looked up, his face its normal, unreadable mask as Daryl knelt down, dropping to one knee across from the small fire his son had been building.

"What, Shauna run her big, black lips again?"

Even Daryl was surprised at the speed in which he lashed out, his open hand hitting Micah's face, and knocking the boy into the ground.

"If I _ever_ hear somethin' like outta ya mouth 'gain, boy, so help me God, I'll kick ya ass from here ta Atlanta, do ya understand me?" He bit out, blue eyes flashing dangerously as Mikey pulled himself back up. "That's your damn sister; ya argue with her, ya fight with her… hell, maybe ya two even throw a few punches every once in a while. But ya don't ever, _ever_ talk 'bout her like that 'gain. Am I clear?"

For a few tense seconds, Daryl wondered if his son was actually going to hit him back, brown eyes meeting his angrily, before the boy sighed.

"I know. I know, I'm sorry. I jus'… got a lot goin' on up here, ya know?" Mikey said with a small smile, pointing at his head. "Wasn't thinkin'… didn't mean what I said."

"Wanna talk 'bout it?" Even he couldn't resist chuckling, as Mikey's eyebrows raised. "Yeah, I know. Ain't really our thing, is it? But uh…" He scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably, growing serious again. "I jus'… If ya ever need ta… ta talk, that is… Ya know I'm here for ya, right? I mean… ya can tell me anythin', anytime."

"I know, dad. It's jus' some stuff I gotta figure on my own. No big deal. Tell Shauna I'm sorry when ya go back for me?"

"What, ya in a hurry ta get rid a me or somethin', kid?" Daryl asked with a frown. Normally, Mikey was like his damn shadow; boy always seemed to be right on his heels. Not that he would ever complain; hell, it was actually kinda nice havin' the kid tag along.

"No, I uh… I jus' wanted some time to think."

"Good. Ya go 'head an' think then, an' I'll grab a few hours shut eye 'fore I go back in, an' ya sister makes me play cards with her all night." At the look on Mikey's face, Daryl gave him a grim smile. "Unless ya wanna tell me what's goin' on in that head a yours."

Mikey was quiet for a few minutes, before timidly asking, "Your uh… I know… I mean… I…"

"Spit it out, kid, Christmas is comin'," Daryl said roughly, giving his son a half-assed grin.

"Your family. I uh… I was at Woodbury. I mean, my folks were. Back when… back when ya group attacked that night."

Daryl's eyes narrowed. "Really? Two years a livin' with us, an' ya jus' now decide ta mention that?"

Mikey shrugged uncomfortably. "Ya guys never really asked."

Daryl sighed as he finally actually sat down, his bad knee protesting the position he'd been in. "Look… Micah… When ya first showed up here, ya were beaten ta hell an' back. Kinda obvious that ya were runnin' from somethin' pretty damn serious. So ya ma an' me… we jus' figured if ya wanted us ta know, ya'd tell us when ya were ready. We didn't wanna push ya.

"I uh… I got my share a experience with… with shitty families," He said slowly. "An' I know I… Hell, I still don't like… don't like talkin' 'bout it much. Ya ma learned real quick not ta push the point with me; kinda figured ya'd appreciate the same."

"I watched the fight. Between ya brother an' you. When the Governor made ya two fight in the pit. Ya brother… He uh…" Mikey paused, clearly not sure how to continue.

"He gave his life for me," Daryl said quietly. "One a the few nice things he ever did for me. He was a real asshole, Merle was. But he loved me. In his own sick way. Took me a lotta years ta realize that uh… how Merle… how he treated me… that he jus' didn't know no better. Wasn't really his fault. Our daddy did the same thing ta him. Didn't make it… right, or nothin', but…"

"He made it right in the end," Mikey finished for him, staring down at the ground. "I was an only child. My dad… he used to drink a lot."

Daryl slid himself over, and awkwardly put one arm around Mikey's shoulder. "We all got our pasts, kid. Can't none of us hide from it. An' I know… I wish I could tell ya it all goes away eventually. That one day, ya wake up, an' it'll all be gone. I still sleep with a knife by the bed, kid, 'cause I still don't sleep at night. Still get the nightmares. Still don't like it when people get too close. Still watch my damn back every second, 'cause I'm… 'cause I'm afraid one day, I'm gonna turn 'round, an' see my ol' man, or Merle standin' there, ready ta beat the hell outta me.

"It don't never go 'way, kid. But it uh… It gets easier. Ya ma… When I was finally… finally ready ta talk… Ya ma was right there with me. An' it didn't take it away or nothin'… But jus' getting' it off my chest. Gettin' it outta my head? It uh… it made it a bit easier ta live with. Made it not hurt quite so much."

Mikey scoffed, as he leaned into his father's embrace. "So ya sayin' I gotta find me a good woman, adopt a couple a kids, an' my life is gonna be all peachy?"

Daryl chuckled, ruffling the kid's hair. "Nah. I'm sayin' ya gotta find somebody who understands. Somebody ya can talk to."

"How the hell does ma understand?"

Daryl pulled away with a sigh. "That's ya ma's past, an' it ain't my place ta say. But jus' know… Ya ma an' me… we understand what ya goin' through, Mikey. An' we're both here if ya wanna talk."


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Alright so... Here is the smut y'all wanted. I will apologize in advance, I'm not very good at writing smut, but I tried my bestest. That's gotta count for something, right? Anyways, obviously the rating for this has been bumped up to 'M' now with this chapter. Sorry the first part is a little weird, but I wanted there to be some sort of plot to this chapter, instead of all smut lol.

* * *

"Wow. Two nights in a row without the girls in here. That's gotta be some sorta record. Where they at?" Daryl said with a grunt as he pulled his shirt off, climbing into bed next to Carol.

Carol chuckled as she slid closer to him, laying one hand on his now-bare chest. "Maggie wanted to do a girl's night thing with Beth and Shauna, and Judy wanted to tag along."

"Good. Maybe I can actually get some sleep," He muttered, sliding one hand underneath her shoulders, the other one underneath his pillow. "I talked ta Mikey."

"And how'd that go?"

"Dunno. Fine, I guess. Said he was uh... at Woodbury."

Carol froz, feeling her heart stop in her chest for a moment. "What?"

Daryl sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Said he... Said he watched... Watched Merle an' me. That night. He was there."

"How do you feel about that?" Carol asked unsurely.

She remembered those first few weeks, after Daryl's return. It'd taken him almost two months before he'd told her what had happened during his brief 'stay' at Woodbury.

_"Daryl... you know, eventually, you're going to have to talk about it," Carol said quietly, stopping at the top of the perch._

_Daryl didn't acknowledge her, as he sat on the edge of the window, peering out the bars, but she could see the way his hands clenched tighter in his lap that he'd heard her._

_"You can't keep holding it in. If you don't talk about it, it's going to eat you alive."_

_"He made us fight." He still wouldn't look at her, his voice quiet as he spoke. "Jus' like our daddy used to do. Tol' us... Whichever one a us lost... got fed to the Geeks. Winner... Winner got a bullet in the head," He said with a grim chuckle. "He... When they caught me... They tied my hands 'hind my back. The... Governor... said it made it a fair fight. With Merle only havin' the one hand an' all. An' jus' when I was gonna tell the guy where ta shove it… Merle blindsides me with a fist ta the face. Jus' like he used ta._

_"Wasn't nothin' I could do. Hell, Merle couldda beaten my ass with both hands missin'. He was jus' poundin' the piss outta my face, an'… I sorta gave up, ya know? Jus' like when we was kids. He uh… He got me in a chokehold, an' I thought… I thought he was gonna kill me. Break the 'rules' an' do me a favor. How sad is that, huh?" He spat, swiping at his eyes. "Thinkin' my brother killin' me was probably one a the nicer things he ever did for me. Jesus, that's pathetic."_

_Carol sighed, moving over next to him, and laying on of her hands on his. "It's alright, Daryl. It's gonna be alright."_

"Don't really matter one way or 'nother," Daryl mumbled, pulling Carol out of her reverie.

She turned over onto her side, facing him, as she set on hand on his face. "I bet it matters to Mikey," She said quietly. "Did he say anything else?"

"Jus' that his dad used ta drink. Wasn't like I couldn't a figured that one out," He said with a snort, reaching over, and snuffing out the candle.

"You know… Might be a while before we have the bed to ourselves again," Carol said mischievously, moving her hand back down to his chest. She heard him grumble something under his breath, but ignored him as she slide further up the bed, setting her head in the crook of his neck.

"Come on…" She whispered, nuzzling her nose against the rough stubble on the underside of his chin. "You said it yourself, it's not like we get many days without the kids."

"Got a point there," He said, flashing her half a smile, as his arm tightened around her shoulder.

As always, she took the lead, running her hands over his chest, tickling his ribs a little, making him squirm a bit, before kissing the base of his throat, to the underside of his chin, and eventually to his lips.

He groaned into her open mouth, and she could feel him stiffening underneath her, as he wrapped his arms around her tightly, exploring each other's mouths for a few moments, before he growled, flipping her onto her back, and coming to rest on top of her, and she could feel his erection rubbing against her thigh.

She smiled as she took in the sight of him, poised above her. His firm abs, with only the slightest bit of dark hair starting under his belly button, and disappearing under the pants he still wore. His well defined arms, holding him up, and his large firm hands on either side of her head.

His darkly tanned skin, contrasting sharply as it lay against her own pale flesh.

He growled again, and in an instant, his lips were on hers again, hungrily plundering her mouth, and she felt his hands fumbling with the top of her pajama bottoms, pulling them down her legs without breaking the kiss, followed by her panties, before he discarded his own jeans.

She couldn't help the low moan that escaped her throat as she felt him pushing against her entrance, seconds before he fully sheathed himself inside her, fitting her like a glove as always.

She had to bite her lip to keep from making noise as he slowly began to move in and out of her, his head tucked against her neck, his hot breath tickling her ears. His hands wrapped around her, pulling her closer to him, as she tightened her legs around his waist. She couldn't help the moan that escape as it changed the angle, with him suddenly pressing deeper inside of her.

He kept up the slow, but firm pace for a while, and she could feel the pleasure beginning to build between her legs, when he started to speed up, his breathing becoming more and more erratic, until –with another groan –he spasmed, releasing his seed deep inside of her, which was all it took to push her over the edge of her own release.

Still panting, she reached both hands up, grasping his face, and pulling him down to give him another kiss.

"Thank you," She whispered, giving him a small smile.

He kissed her one final time, before rolling to the side, reaching to the floor, grabbing his pants, and sliding them back on, and searching the tangled bedding for her pajamas, handing them to her with a sheepish grin.

"Ya know I love ya, right?" He asked quietly, as he lay back down, pulling her close to him.

She chuckled, snuggling tightly against his side, head resting on his chest.

"I love you too, Daryl."


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Alright, so firstly sorry for the epic long time without an update... Which leads me to secondly, which is I'm sorry this chapter is so blocky and choppy, but I hit a serious writer's block for this, and when I finally got SOMETHING to come out, and sound halfway decent, I ran with it. So hopefully this will get me over the hump so to speak. Reviews are mucho appreciated. : )

* * *

"Did you ever once sleep more than a few hours?" Carol asked with a chuckle as she made her way into the common room, smiling at Daryl, who was sitting at the table, spoon in one hand, bent over his bowl of oatmeal, the other hand holding a tattered yellow book.

He snorted, setting the book down, and looking up at her, an awkward smile on his face as Carol gave him a light kiss. "Couple times. Usually on Christmas."

Carol kept her mouth shut, even though she wanted to say something about that particular sad commentary of his childhood, as she scooped herself her own bowl of oatmeal, and sat down opposite her partner at the table. "Speaking of... Shauna's birthday's coming up."

"Damn. It really October already?" He muttered, picking his book up again. Carol couldn't contain her laughter as she read the title.

"Worst Case Scenario Survival Guide? Really?"

Daryl glared at her over the top of the small book. "Small words, lots a pictures. When the kids comin' back?"

"Well, seeing as how the girls were probably up all night, we probably have a few hours. Surprised Mikey hasn't come up yet though," She said, a tad bit worried. Mikey was a big eater; for him to have missed breakfast was a little unusual, although she supposed he could've found a few leftovers from the garden, or even snagged a few of the treats – mostly twinkies, rice crispy treats, and other assorted junk – out of the pantry before he'd left.

Daryl grunted, setting the book down again, and standing up, moving over to the wash basin with his bowl. "Kid said he was goin' campin'; ain't campin' if ya come runnin' home every few hours."

"Daryl, he's camping in the backyard," Carol said pointedly, giving him a stern look. "It's not like he's miles away."

"Leave the kid be, woman," Daryl said sternly, dropping his dish in the water. "This is good for him. 'Specially after the day he had yesterday. What's the plan for today?"

She rolled her eyes, but didn't argue, knowing Daryl was probably right, and even if he wasn't, she'd never win that particular fight. "Not much. Hershel said something yesterday about trying to get one last harvest out of the garden, but I think he wanted to wait til next week. I figured I'd go visiting; see how everybody was doing on supplies. With winter coming on, we're gonna want to have as much stockpiled as we can."

"A'ight. Start gettin' lists or whatever, an' I'll talk to Rick an' Glen; see what we can get set up as far as vehicles ta fill. Try an' plan a big run next week or somethin'. First though, I wanna go talk ta those new folks," He said, his eyes darkening a bit.

"Something about them really isn't sitting right with you, is it?" She asked curiously. "What set you off?"

"Dunno. Jus' somethin' 'bout the guy is off. I mean, hell... He said he don't know how ta feed himself or his woman out there... After five years, ya tellin' me he ain't learned a thing or two 'bout protectin' himself? An' then with that big group rollin' by the other night; I'm supposed ta believe that he wasn't with 'em? Nah, he's hidin' somethin'. An' somethin's seriously off 'bout him."

Carol sighed. "So... what are you gonna do about it?"

The steely-eyed look he gave her served to remind her just how dangerous a man Daryl still was.

"He ain't stayin'; don't care how the group votes," He said darkly. "He ain't stayin' here with you an' the kids."

* * *

Daryl stalked through the halls of the prison, moving towards Cell Block F, his mind already made up to what would be happening in two day's time.

It wouldn't be the first time. The group always thought they were being so damn 'nice' when they voted to have someone leave; giving 'em food, and water enough to make it a couple days.

None of 'em realized that that wasn't how things worked anymore. Couldn't just let people know where your base was, what sort of supplies you had, and the numbers you had, and then just let 'em leave. That was just asking for problems.

Six times over the past five years, he'd waited until everyone was asleep. Waited until it was Rick's turn on rotation for guard duty. Then with nothing more than a small nod, Daryl would creep through the gate.

Nobody but Rick ever wondered why the food they'd given a recent stranger was back. Nobody had wondered why a larger group hadn't fallen on their laps.

But this time was gonna be different. He could already tell that the man – Pete somethin' or other – was a charmer. Modern day Snake Oil salesman, as Merle used to call 'em. Only reason the man had pinged Daryl and Rick's radar was years of finely honed instincts; Rick's as a cop, and Daryl's growing up in a world where instinct was one of the few things that would help you survive.

The others probably wouldn't notice anything off about the guy. And if he turned up the charm, the others would probably vote to let him stay. Of course, Daryl and Rick – along with their women – would make sure it wasn't a unanimous vote, but both men knew they had to be cautious about throwing their weight around like that. Or at least... throwing it around that obviously.

So good ol' Petey was gonna have to have an 'accident'. Something Daryl hated doing, but something he'd done nonetheless twice before.

Carol had asked him once if it'd scared him, what he was willing to do for her and the children. She hadn't meant it, really; it'd been more of a throw out, something to make him laugh, or at least brighten his mood.

But it'd had the opposite effect, as he'd stood. As he'd told her that when it came to keeping her and his kids safe, there wasn't anything he wouldn't do. Nobody he wouldn't kill. He'd told her that if it took a mountain-sized pile of bodies to keep his family safe, he'd fill that pile with those at the prison if that was what it took. The only thing that 'scared' him anymore, was the thought of something happening to her. To Shauna, or Mikey. To Judy.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Alrighty, so next chapter is going to get into some heavier stuff, as far as violence and what not. Sorry this chapter is a little stiff, a little... odd, I guess, but I really thought that Daryl would've made his opinions and feelings quite clear to Pete, so I felt this was necessary. Anyways, thanks for reading, and thanks for reviewing. Enjoy. : )

* * *

"Hello there!"

Daryl stopped instantly, hand grasping his knife when he heard Pete's voice from behind him. He'd been wandering the deeper parts of the prison, trying to get his head on straight.

"Ain't safe sneakin' up on a man," He grunted, not turning around. "Most people here… they'll gut ya if ya try. Ain't got the same self control I got."

He could literally feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, his muscles tensing as the man slid around in front of him, giving him a wide berth. Daryl figured the smile the man gave him was supposed to be friendly; it just gave him the chills.

"Sorry. Wasn't tryin' ta spook ya or nothin'."

Daryl's eyes narrowed at the man's thick accent. "Thought you said you was from up North. Hell, that accent's thick 'nough ta be from Alabama or somethin'," He said suspiciously, his hand never leaving his knife.

Pete grinned at him sheepishly. "That'd be Rosie. She's from down here, and she said it might make you people more comfortable if I didn't sound like I was from up north. She said you Southern guys don't really like us 'yanks'. She said she thought it make you more comfortable if I didn't sound like such an outsider."

"Right. What the hell ya doin' this far down, anyways? Outsiders ain't allowed down here. Where the hell is Tyrese?" Daryl asked gruffly, advancing on the man, forcing him back a few steps.

"Oh, sorry. He said he was going out on watch, and his wife and Rosie were cooking dinner; didn't see any harm if I explored around a little. Didn't know there were rules."

"Yeah, well, there is. 'Til the group votes, ya confined ta Cell Block F, unless Rick, Tyrese, or me is with ya. Period. Ya understand?"

Pete held his hands up placatingly, but Daryl didn't miss the small, minute flash of anger in the man's eyes, there and then gone again just as quick.

"Alright. No harm intended. I'll just be heading back then."

"I'll walk ya back. Can get kind a confusin' down here. Wouldn't want ya gettin' lost or nothin'. 'Sides, I needed ta talk ta Michonne anyways."

He made sure that Pete stayed a few inches ahead, and to his right, as they started back towards the front cell blocks. The older man kept the smile plastered on his face, gabbing non-stop the whole time.

"Michonne? That's a weird name. So what's the deal here? People friendly? You all work as a group, or is it… like existing in the same town?"

"The hell does that mean? Gotta remember, we're all jus' ignorant Southerners down here," Daryl said, thickening his accent to the consistency of molasses on a cold day.

The man had the decency to look bashful at the very least. "I told you I was sorry about that. What I meant was, are you people like… like family, or something? Or you just some people that all holed up in the same place?"

Daryl snorted, as they moved into a smaller hall. "After four years in this place… Most a us are a family now, even if we weren't before."

"Well, I notice… you, and that other man… Rick, right? You two seem to be the ones in charge. Seems like you two would have the final say in who stays here, and who gets tossed out."

"Ain't how this place is run. Everybody gets a vote. If it's unanimous, ya stay."

"So how do I get in your good graces?" Pete asked with a grim smile. "I uh… get the feeling that you don't much care for me. Or you this… 'friendly' towards all new-comers?"

Daryl stopped, holding his arm out, and blocking the other man's path, narrowing his gaze. "Little bit a both. I got a woman; got me a few kids. An' I ain't the type ta pussy-foot 'round the issue, so lemme be real clear: don't trust ya. Don't like ya. Think ya ain't what ya tryin' ta pass ya self off as. But it ain't my choice; if it was ya wouldn't gotten in the gates, but ya here now. An' the group is gonna have the final say. If they all vote for ya, I ain't gonna stand in the way a that."

He leaned in closer, putting his lips close to the other man's ears. "But I will tell ya this much… Ya go near my woman? My kids? Ya wish ya mama never met ya daddy by the time I'm done with ya. We clear?"

When he pulled back, a part of him felt satisfaction. Pete's friendly persona was gone; the glare in the man's eyes promised pain, and vengeance, his hands tightened into fists, and for a moment, Daryl thought Pete was actually going to take a swing at him.

Part of him wished he would.

But Pete didn't swing at him. After a few seconds, the smile came back, and the man shook himself, suddenly Mr. Friendly again.

Damn if it didn't make Daryl's skin crawl.

If they weren't already back in the populated section, Daryl would've slit his throat then and there.

"Ya cell block's right there," He said instead, pointing to the barred door a few feet away from them. "Suggest ya keep ya self there."

"Daddy!"

Daryl didn't turn his head, keeping his eyes locked on Pete's. "Shauna, go back ta ya mama. Now!"

"But, daddy – "

"Now, girl!"


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Firstly, thanks to everyone who's reviewed; y'all make me feel very special. : ) Secondly, I figure there will only be another four, maybe five chapters max before I wrap this up. Which leads me to thirdly: after I finish this up, I'm going to try and take one of my one-shots and add more to it. So if any of y'all have read any of the one-shots, and have one you would like to see more of, lemme know. : ) As always, thanks for reading, special thanks for reviewing. Enjoy. : )

* * *

Shauna wasn't sure what was going between her father and the new guy, but she knew it was bad; her father's glare continued to follow the stranger, even after the man had disappeared back into Tyrese and Michonne's cell block. When he did turn towards her, she almost wished he hadn't, the dark look in his face reminding her just how scary her father could be at times.

"This better be important, girl," He growled, grabbing her arm, and yanking her back towards their own cell.

"It's Mikey; I went down to check on him, and he looks like somebody beat the hell out of him," Shauna said quickly, setting her heels, and refusing to be pulled along.

Daryl stopped instantly, his grip tightening painfully on her arm as he turned to look at her. "What? Who?"

"I don't know! He wouldn't tell me; tried telling me he fell or something like that, but the whole right side of his face looks like one big bruise," She said, unable to keep the small hitch out of her voice as the image of her brother's face flashed before her again.

If she'd thought her daddy looked scary before, it was nothing compared to the look on his face then. She didn't think she'd _ever_ seen him that mad; not even when her and Mikey had snuck outside of the fence last year.

"Ya listen ta me, an' ya listen good: ya get ya sister, an' ya get ya ass back ta our cell block. Tell mama I said ta lock the doors, an' not ta let anybody in but Hershel, or me. Ya understand me?"

"Yes, daddy," Shauna said quickly, feeling her heart pounding in her chest, knowing full well the level of hell her father would reign down on whoever had hurt Mikey.

"Then what the hell are ya doin' still standin' here? Go!"

* * *

Daryl waited long enough to watch his girls enter their block, before he started towards the outside, a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, telling him he was missing something. Something obvious, something important but he couldn't put his finger on what it was as he rounded the corner of the prison, and seen his son's tent down by the gardens.

"Mikey!" He hollered, every nerve on edge, and his brain going into over-drive when he received no response. "Micah!"

"I'm fine, dad," He heard as he neared the tent. For once, not caring about his son's privacy, he yanked on the zipper, hearing the fabric rip with the strength he put into it.

"Dad! What the hell?!"

Daryl couldn't find the words to respond, as he peered inside the tent. Shauna was right; it looked like somebody had took a few good swings at his boy, the entire right side of his face a mix of red, purple, and blue, with his eye being swollen shut.

"I um... I tripped an' fell," Mikey finally mumbled, pulling himself up to a sitting position. "It's looks worse than it is. I'll be fine."

"Ya... Jesus, boy, ya kiddin' me right now, right?" Daryl snapped, finally finding the words. "Who the hell did that?"

"Nobody! I said I fell!"

"Yeah, right in ta somebody's damn fist! I ain't gonna ask again, boy: what the hell happened?" When Mikey still didn't respond, Daryl took a deep breath, dropping to one one knee inside the tent. Fighting down his anger, he forced himself to keep his voice relatively calm – for him anyways – as he said, "Look, kid, ya can either tell me, or I can jus' make my way through everybody inside; whoopin' all their asses till somebody tells me what happened. Take ya pick."

"Dad, it's... it's nothin', alright? I can handle it. Please," Mikey begged quietly, a single tear dripping down his face as he pulled his knees up to his chest. "Jus'... leave it be."

"The hell, I will, Micah," Daryl snorted, trying to keep the edge out of his voice as he slid over next to the kid, gently grabbing his face, and tilting it towards him.

Whoever had hit the kid – and just that thought nearly pushed him into a murderous rage – had packed a hell of a punch; in a couple spots, it looked like the skin had nearly been broken.

"Nothin' permanent, an' nothin' one a those ice packs a Hershel's won't help," He said quietly, releasing Mikey's jaw.

"Thought those were for emergencies," Mikey said with a small smile. "This don't even peg the 'inconvenient' scale for me, dad."

Daryl closed his eyes, hands clenching into fists at his side, feeling himself twitching as he struggled to keep his anger contained. "Kid... jus' shut up, a'ight?" He said through gritted teeth.

"Sorry."

He hated the lost, almost broken sound in the kid's voice, knowing Mikey thought his father's rage was directed at him. Hated how his mind started remembering all the times he'd been in Mikey's place, with Merle shaking in rage at their father's latest handiwork. How he'd thought it was his fault for upsetting Merle.

"Come here, Micah," He grunted, wrapping his arms around his son, pulling him close. "I ain't mad at you, kid. I ain't... This ain't ya fault," He said with a sigh, a little surprised when Mikey hugged him back, and feeling the tears soaking through his shirt. "None a that was ya fault, ya understand me? Wasn't ya fault."


End file.

Walking Dead, Family, Romance